CoolBlue74
PaintingHappyLittleTrees
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TaintedB said:That's interesting! I hope you write the story of this here after it is all over, so to speak.
What story?
I just told you all.
Jacking-Off Log
- Thread starter rosco rathbone
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What story?
I just told you all.
rosco rathbone
1. f3e5 2. g4??
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CoolBlue74 said:
I've done this, more as an experiment than anything. How many times can a grown man o in a day.
I've been wanking every morning up arising but there isn't much to tell. The same old images in the mind; all the juice squeezed out of them.
TaintedB
Finished
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Ok, I'm going to try this.
Tonight I was re-reading one of my old tales, this one an unfinished piece of smut. I often do this prior to starting a new story--it gets me in the proper mood. It's way too long and inappropriate to post the whole thing here, but maybe I could exerpt a couple of samples so you can see what started this.
"“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he began, all smiles and blazing animal charm. What is a man like him who could snap his fingers and have bare cunts rubbing themselves all over him a few seconds later, doing soliciting a used whore like myself? This man will not have to worry about paying for it for decades—he was a female magnet. “Someone who asks for absolutely anything from a whore is either very very stupid or very sick in the head. You don’t strike me as the stupid sort” I answered, walking quickly toward a more populated area of the street."
"A loud, “Let’s GO, Babe!” brought me out of my thoughts and I ran up the short path to the covered front door. He put the key in the lock after first putting his arm around my waist, which if I were a girlfriend of his I would have enjoyed as protective, but given my current arrangement, it was the precautionary move of a jailer. He opened the door and shoved me gently inside, into the dark house’s welcoming warmth. I turned around and watched the lights of the cab as it drove off through the rain. As he removed his overcoat, and ordered me out of mine and as he slammed the door closed against the night (and locked it with a key from the inside), I realized that this was it. I was beyond all help now, beyond my friendly buzzer safety system, beyond begging the cabbie for assistance, and probably, if this man was half as predatory and alert as he seemed, beyond escaping this place to get help. “Well, it looks like I’m completely at your mercy now,” I said (yes, this was a standard line I used with my johns to get their fires blazing, but I meant it with all my heart at that moment). I searched his face for a reaction. “I just hope you have some of that in stock,” I added softly. “Yeah,” he agreed, a crooked smile on his face. As he brushed passed me in the dark, his fingers lightly touched my lips."
"Finally, a change: “Get over here!” he barked and I walked on my stiff legs around the coffee table separating us to stand just in front of him. His face was almost directly in my cunt: I felt his breath on the skin. Suddenly his finger was shoved up to the hilt in my pussy—it was so fast I didn’t even see him move his arm. I gasped as her barked the next order, “Turn around!” I tried to turn, but he kept his finger in my cunt and my thigh bumped into his arm. “I said TURN you stupid cunt!” He sounded very angry now, so facing the inevitable, I lifted one leg up high over his arm, giving him a beautiful clear view up between my legs and turned the rest of the way. The next order was not long in coming: “Bend over, hands on the coffee table, legs spread, back arched.” I did as he said, again blushing a little at the extremely intimate view this position gave this angry stranger who said his name was Rick. “Ah… that’s better” he said, his voice sounding almost amused. I heard him sit back, take a long swig of his drink, and then again there was just silence. I didn’t dare move enough to look through my legs, but I imagined his eyes boring into my large split ass cheeks, my dark brown cunt, and tiny dark asshole between them. After another long silent pause in which I grew increasingly more tense, Rick began to speak softly and menacingly, “I suggest strongly that you do NOT call me honey again if you value that loose bag of bones you call your body. In fact, I recommend that whenever you address me tonight you call me, `my young lord.’ I’ll call _you_ whatever I want, you dumb broad. Do you understand?” “Yes.” I said, barely above a whisper. “What’s THAT?” he asked, the menace much more strong in his voice. Oh fuck, what did I do? “Yes, my young lord!” I spit out and blushed deeper, the words very hard to say for some reason. “That’s very good, you brain-dead penis pleaser!”
"I told him how much the assfuck hurt me, as if a dagger was stabbing me between my cheeks, over and over and over again, and then I told him something I didn’t know I was going to say until it came out, “But there was one point where my stepdad was fucking my ass and it hurt as much as it ever did and I hated the fact that it was HIM up me as much as ever, but I also realized at that point that this was what my whole life was about. I mean, I felt as though I fully deserved this pain, this horrible degradation, this reliving of a nightmare and always had. I felt as though…it sounds dumb now, but I felt for a moment as though this is what I was made for.” I stopped to give him a long sensual suck and ball licking. Then I continued my confession. “I felt in that moment as though I was made for suffering and for having my face pushed into the deepest and most foul humiliation there was. And this realization didn’t make anything better,” I sobbed, “but it DID make everything feel sort of right! As if this hell were the only right and proper thing for me! Isn’t that sick? I think it’s very sick!” Rick answered by shoving my face deep onto his dick and working it manually up and down in his lap very fast and hard. He came a minute later, flooding my mouth and throat with a huge amount of sperm. “Swallow every last drop, you old used-up hag!” he snarled. I gulped, between sobs."
Anyway, it goes on in that vein and more for about 21 pages. I was becoming mildly aroused re-reading this stuff, and when I started to play with myself, I noticed I was pretty wet, even though I didn't feel that aroused in my head. Oh yeah, Rosco wants detail. Ok. Sitting at the computer. Wearing a light summer dress. Multi-tasking (got a steak on the barbecue). Drinking a beer. I am at the end of a bad cold and my sense of smell is still lacking its usual vigor. I've got random songs playing out of the PC speakers. I go to check the steak, realize it's going to take at least another 7 minutes, and decide I want to have an orgasm. I'd reached the point in the story where the cripple has commented on how cowlike she is and made her "moo" at the same time as she sucks his enormous cock (for some reason my sexual fantasies often resemble Jodorowsky films :/ ) and I felt desire stir. I shut my eyes though, and stopped thinking of the story because it just wasn't doing it fast enough for me.
Well no that's wrong. I thought of one tiny piece of the story: the part where an assfuck is described as a dagger stabbing me between my cheeks. I like the idea of that and imagined that somebody I knew was taking me anally for my first time and that it hurt that bad. (It always helps my libido to fantasize about someone I know or have met before. The people I make up in my mind never arouse me as much as real people do.) I added in details to the scene that I like: that he took me completely by surprise, I wasn't expecting it or expecting something different, that it hurt so bad that I screamed for him to get out of me but he laughs and refuses, turning the act into a rape, that he messes with my mind while raping me, etc. Then--and this is very standard in my masturbation fantasies--at the point where I scream particularly loudly from the agnonizing thrusts causing him to cum in pleasure, I also came in real life, thinking about his taking his deepest pleasure at what was most painful for me. That sort of thinking will _always_ get me off, even if I'm not in a particularly aroused mood, as it's at the base of my psychosexuality. I think I let out a light sigh-groan.
After I came and was slowly and pleasantly drifting down I did this habitual thing I always do at such times. I dipped my fingers in my pussy and then brought them to my nose, to smell myself. I don't know why I do this, and I wasn't really aware that I did it until tonight. What made me aware of this little behavior was that, unlike most times, my nose wasn't working right due to the cold. So it was different (and more frustrating) than it usually is, which brought it to my attention.
Oh, and the random song playing on the PC at the time I orgasmed was REO Speedwagon's "Keep On Loving You," and the music actually heightened my pleasure, which just goes to show that the amazing human brain can eroticize damn near anything. Had a slight post-orgasm "cold headache" afterwards, this is common if I haven't cum in awhile. It went away after a few minutes.
No measurements of quantity or shooting length or anything like that to report: just a quiet girl O, I'm not even a squirter. :/
Tonight I was re-reading one of my old tales, this one an unfinished piece of smut. I often do this prior to starting a new story--it gets me in the proper mood.
It's way too long and inappropriate to post the whole thing here, but maybe I could exerpt a couple of samples so you can see what started this."“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he began, all smiles and blazing animal charm. What is a man like him who could snap his fingers and have bare cunts rubbing themselves all over him a few seconds later, doing soliciting a used whore like myself? This man will not have to worry about paying for it for decades—he was a female magnet. “Someone who asks for absolutely anything from a whore is either very very stupid or very sick in the head. You don’t strike me as the stupid sort” I answered, walking quickly toward a more populated area of the street."
"A loud, “Let’s GO, Babe!” brought me out of my thoughts and I ran up the short path to the covered front door. He put the key in the lock after first putting his arm around my waist, which if I were a girlfriend of his I would have enjoyed as protective, but given my current arrangement, it was the precautionary move of a jailer. He opened the door and shoved me gently inside, into the dark house’s welcoming warmth. I turned around and watched the lights of the cab as it drove off through the rain. As he removed his overcoat, and ordered me out of mine and as he slammed the door closed against the night (and locked it with a key from the inside), I realized that this was it. I was beyond all help now, beyond my friendly buzzer safety system, beyond begging the cabbie for assistance, and probably, if this man was half as predatory and alert as he seemed, beyond escaping this place to get help. “Well, it looks like I’m completely at your mercy now,” I said (yes, this was a standard line I used with my johns to get their fires blazing, but I meant it with all my heart at that moment). I searched his face for a reaction. “I just hope you have some of that in stock,” I added softly. “Yeah,” he agreed, a crooked smile on his face. As he brushed passed me in the dark, his fingers lightly touched my lips."
"Finally, a change: “Get over here!” he barked and I walked on my stiff legs around the coffee table separating us to stand just in front of him. His face was almost directly in my cunt: I felt his breath on the skin. Suddenly his finger was shoved up to the hilt in my pussy—it was so fast I didn’t even see him move his arm. I gasped as her barked the next order, “Turn around!” I tried to turn, but he kept his finger in my cunt and my thigh bumped into his arm. “I said TURN you stupid cunt!” He sounded very angry now, so facing the inevitable, I lifted one leg up high over his arm, giving him a beautiful clear view up between my legs and turned the rest of the way. The next order was not long in coming: “Bend over, hands on the coffee table, legs spread, back arched.” I did as he said, again blushing a little at the extremely intimate view this position gave this angry stranger who said his name was Rick. “Ah… that’s better” he said, his voice sounding almost amused. I heard him sit back, take a long swig of his drink, and then again there was just silence. I didn’t dare move enough to look through my legs, but I imagined his eyes boring into my large split ass cheeks, my dark brown cunt, and tiny dark asshole between them. After another long silent pause in which I grew increasingly more tense, Rick began to speak softly and menacingly, “I suggest strongly that you do NOT call me honey again if you value that loose bag of bones you call your body. In fact, I recommend that whenever you address me tonight you call me, `my young lord.’ I’ll call _you_ whatever I want, you dumb broad. Do you understand?” “Yes.” I said, barely above a whisper. “What’s THAT?” he asked, the menace much more strong in his voice. Oh fuck, what did I do? “Yes, my young lord!” I spit out and blushed deeper, the words very hard to say for some reason. “That’s very good, you brain-dead penis pleaser!”
"I told him how much the assfuck hurt me, as if a dagger was stabbing me between my cheeks, over and over and over again, and then I told him something I didn’t know I was going to say until it came out, “But there was one point where my stepdad was fucking my ass and it hurt as much as it ever did and I hated the fact that it was HIM up me as much as ever, but I also realized at that point that this was what my whole life was about. I mean, I felt as though I fully deserved this pain, this horrible degradation, this reliving of a nightmare and always had. I felt as though…it sounds dumb now, but I felt for a moment as though this is what I was made for.” I stopped to give him a long sensual suck and ball licking. Then I continued my confession. “I felt in that moment as though I was made for suffering and for having my face pushed into the deepest and most foul humiliation there was. And this realization didn’t make anything better,” I sobbed, “but it DID make everything feel sort of right! As if this hell were the only right and proper thing for me! Isn’t that sick? I think it’s very sick!” Rick answered by shoving my face deep onto his dick and working it manually up and down in his lap very fast and hard. He came a minute later, flooding my mouth and throat with a huge amount of sperm. “Swallow every last drop, you old used-up hag!” he snarled. I gulped, between sobs."
Anyway, it goes on in that vein and more for about 21 pages. I was becoming mildly aroused re-reading this stuff, and when I started to play with myself, I noticed I was pretty wet, even though I didn't feel that aroused in my head. Oh yeah, Rosco wants detail. Ok. Sitting at the computer. Wearing a light summer dress. Multi-tasking (got a steak on the barbecue). Drinking a beer. I am at the end of a bad cold and my sense of smell is still lacking its usual vigor. I've got random songs playing out of the PC speakers. I go to check the steak, realize it's going to take at least another 7 minutes, and decide I want to have an orgasm. I'd reached the point in the story where the cripple has commented on how cowlike she is and made her "moo" at the same time as she sucks his enormous cock (for some reason my sexual fantasies often resemble Jodorowsky films :/ ) and I felt desire stir. I shut my eyes though, and stopped thinking of the story because it just wasn't doing it fast enough for me.
Well no that's wrong. I thought of one tiny piece of the story: the part where an assfuck is described as a dagger stabbing me between my cheeks. I like the idea of that and imagined that somebody I knew was taking me anally for my first time and that it hurt that bad. (It always helps my libido to fantasize about someone I know or have met before. The people I make up in my mind never arouse me as much as real people do.) I added in details to the scene that I like: that he took me completely by surprise, I wasn't expecting it or expecting something different, that it hurt so bad that I screamed for him to get out of me but he laughs and refuses, turning the act into a rape, that he messes with my mind while raping me, etc. Then--and this is very standard in my masturbation fantasies--at the point where I scream particularly loudly from the agnonizing thrusts causing him to cum in pleasure, I also came in real life, thinking about his taking his deepest pleasure at what was most painful for me. That sort of thinking will _always_ get me off, even if I'm not in a particularly aroused mood, as it's at the base of my psychosexuality. I think I let out a light sigh-groan.
After I came and was slowly and pleasantly drifting down I did this habitual thing I always do at such times. I dipped my fingers in my pussy and then brought them to my nose, to smell myself. I don't know why I do this, and I wasn't really aware that I did it until tonight. What made me aware of this little behavior was that, unlike most times, my nose wasn't working right due to the cold. So it was different (and more frustrating) than it usually is, which brought it to my attention.
Oh, and the random song playing on the PC at the time I orgasmed was REO Speedwagon's "Keep On Loving You," and the music actually heightened my pleasure, which just goes to show that the amazing human brain can eroticize damn near anything.
Had a slight post-orgasm "cold headache" afterwards, this is common if I haven't cum in awhile. It went away after a few minutes.No measurements of quantity or shooting length or anything like that to report: just a quiet girl O, I'm not even a squirter. :/
rosco rathbone
1. f3e5 2. g4??
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That's really great, Tb. I feel as if I have taken an all-expenses-paid trip to the center of your masturbating mind. I'd like to see you write up some more wanks. You have a knack for the mise-en-scene.
TaintedB
Finished
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evesdream said:
Thanks!
I thought it was kind of boring, but maybe we all think our personal masturbation experiences are boring.You have seen me write about stuff that's really happened to me, many times.
I've interjected bits and pieces of real life experience into all those old stories of mine you've read. A large part of them is fantasy, obviously, but the realer bits are what make the stories work I think. There's also tons of "real stuff" on that website of mine.
Image
Mother Earth Seduced
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It is 4:00 AM and again I awaken.... The first thing I notice is how bright the room is, the crisp, white bed sheets in particular. It is only one day past the full moon and the light is still intense, maybe more so. The air is clearer since the storm of the past night... It is almost too bright to fall back to sleep. The head of our bed is directly under the window and I roll over on my belly to look out. Raising up on my elbows, my face, neck and chest are illuminated in the glow. I look down to see my breasts, accentuated by being pushed against the pillow, my hair an even brighter gold, across my shoulders and falling on the sheets...
My mind drifts off to erotic thoughts, as it so frequently does these days. Rolling again onto my back, I pull the covers off and let the moonlight wash over my exposed body. My knees fall open, a small pillow on either side to prop them up. I see my breasts, as large and as round and as full as the moon above me. I touch them lightly, tickling at first, nipples stiffening in response... firmly then, my hands massaging and kneading, I lift one to my mouth, gently sucking and licking.
I think of the fantasies that have moved through my mind, realized and unrealized of the last several weeks...
I remember the scene at the pool, the dressing room, the meeting at the hotel, stripping in the room for his pleasure... Wanting, aching, needing so much... Yet not even one of those scenarios played out to completion...
My hands now moving over my entire body in unison, stroking my thighs and hips, just the right amount of light and shadow so that I can see everything I am doing to myself...
I envision the forest encounter of the other night... Being fucked like an animal from behind with his enormous, unsheathed member... I remember the incredible feeling when I read how that beautiful, masculine beast "howled" as his orgasm took him in fits and thrusts...
And I thought about masturbating in the shower the other morning, vocalizing like I had never done before in solo session and how the more I spoke and uttered, the louder and more theatrical it became, and in turn the more it fueled the passion...
One hand pinching my nipple now, the other working between my thighs, slowly rubbing over my entire cunt, spreading the stickiness over my pubic hair... bringing thick droplets to my lips, using the wetness like a creamy lipstick, circling, then sucking my fingertips. My left hand leaving my tit, dropping to my pussy again, twirling and tangling the hair, pulling my lips even further apart...
I think back to earlier this evening and how good it felt when my husband licked and fingered my asshole so deeply... How it felt when he jerked his cock off on my ass cheeks and thighs and how warm the cum felt shooting all over my back...
My fingertip now directly working only on my clit, a sharp and almost painful stimulation, and then more juice, longer but faster strokes. I feel myself rising, back arching... looking down to see, holding back my orgasm just to relish the sight...
I envision my head between the thighs of a beautiful woman, pleasuring her, hearing her moan... My tongue imitating the action, darting in and out of my mouth, licking the air...
I let my orgasm erupt now, waves of ecstasy crashing through my mind and body...
All these visions spinning at once and together...
My hand embraced now between my strong, shuddering thigh muscles… Body and mind and breath returning to normal and I think to myself…
If my biggest problem in life is not being able to sleep because the moonlight is too bright, may I always know this sweet agony.
My mind drifts off to erotic thoughts, as it so frequently does these days. Rolling again onto my back, I pull the covers off and let the moonlight wash over my exposed body. My knees fall open, a small pillow on either side to prop them up. I see my breasts, as large and as round and as full as the moon above me. I touch them lightly, tickling at first, nipples stiffening in response... firmly then, my hands massaging and kneading, I lift one to my mouth, gently sucking and licking.
I think of the fantasies that have moved through my mind, realized and unrealized of the last several weeks...
I remember the scene at the pool, the dressing room, the meeting at the hotel, stripping in the room for his pleasure... Wanting, aching, needing so much... Yet not even one of those scenarios played out to completion...
My hands now moving over my entire body in unison, stroking my thighs and hips, just the right amount of light and shadow so that I can see everything I am doing to myself...
I envision the forest encounter of the other night... Being fucked like an animal from behind with his enormous, unsheathed member... I remember the incredible feeling when I read how that beautiful, masculine beast "howled" as his orgasm took him in fits and thrusts...
And I thought about masturbating in the shower the other morning, vocalizing like I had never done before in solo session and how the more I spoke and uttered, the louder and more theatrical it became, and in turn the more it fueled the passion...
One hand pinching my nipple now, the other working between my thighs, slowly rubbing over my entire cunt, spreading the stickiness over my pubic hair... bringing thick droplets to my lips, using the wetness like a creamy lipstick, circling, then sucking my fingertips. My left hand leaving my tit, dropping to my pussy again, twirling and tangling the hair, pulling my lips even further apart...
I think back to earlier this evening and how good it felt when my husband licked and fingered my asshole so deeply... How it felt when he jerked his cock off on my ass cheeks and thighs and how warm the cum felt shooting all over my back...
My fingertip now directly working only on my clit, a sharp and almost painful stimulation, and then more juice, longer but faster strokes. I feel myself rising, back arching... looking down to see, holding back my orgasm just to relish the sight...
I envision my head between the thighs of a beautiful woman, pleasuring her, hearing her moan... My tongue imitating the action, darting in and out of my mouth, licking the air...
I let my orgasm erupt now, waves of ecstasy crashing through my mind and body...
All these visions spinning at once and together...
My hand embraced now between my strong, shuddering thigh muscles… Body and mind and breath returning to normal and I think to myself…
If my biggest problem in life is not being able to sleep because the moonlight is too bright, may I always know this sweet agony.
rosco rathbone
1. f3e5 2. g4??
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Image said:
Aha. "teh w00dz". Dark rites celebrated, eh? Ni-i-i-i-ce.
Incidentally, check your lunar tables.
BlueEyesInLevis
Literotica Guru
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Image said:
Was it good for you too baby?
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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I shouldn't be in the least surprised anymore when you post something and I immediately think "Yes!!! Exactly!". My orgasms are always tied to the orgasms of the male in whatever fantasy I'm having and he usually comes at the moment of greatest pain or humiliation for the female in my fantasy. (Unlike you I don't fantasize about people I know, nor do I fantasize from a first person POV.)
I don't remember exactly when, but it was some years ago that I regularly began to inject a kind of grotesque absurdity into the male's orgasm. He's cumming his brains out into whatever luckless female I've conjured up and yet he's saying something just ridiculous like "Oooh, yeah, squirty squirty squirty!" Which reading at this moment just makes me blush like hell and giggle in embarassment but at the same time triggers the memory that when I'm thinking those lines I'm generally O-ing my own brains out.
-B
rosco rathbone
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Beebs, that's very funny.
I wish I had some interesting jacks to report. I've been jacking morning noon and night but with a lack of joy. No flair at all. I can't get any psychosexual traction from any of my normal fantasies. I *O*, but I might as well be squeezing fluid out of a rubber bulb. It's about that thrilling.
I wish I had some interesting jacks to report. I've been jacking morning noon and night but with a lack of joy. No flair at all. I can't get any psychosexual traction from any of my normal fantasies. I *O*, but I might as well be squeezing fluid out of a rubber bulb. It's about that thrilling.
SpacegirlLynn
Virgin
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I did yesterday. Thinking about a client who came in for a buzz cut. I love men with short hair.
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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Rosco,
Well, my jacks aren't very interesting of late --- I mean, other than to me. I had a couple of down days just hormonally but then got back on track and snagged a couple good, shuddery O's over the weekend. Nothing to compare with the kind I get when I'm frenzied, but still gratifying.
-B
Well, my jacks aren't very interesting of late --- I mean, other than to me. I had a couple of down days just hormonally but then got back on track and snagged a couple good, shuddery O's over the weekend. Nothing to compare with the kind I get when I'm frenzied, but still gratifying.
-B
bridgeburner
threadkiller
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Queen Bee said:
I used to absolutely drool --- hell, I still do --- over that kind of awful dialogue in old-style boddice rippers. Hmmm....I'm getting an idea for a thread.
-B
It remains a 4.76 to this day with over 35,000 views!
TaintedB
Finished
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bridgeburner said:
Yeah that valentine thread of mine seems like it's been sort of a roarsharch test: brought all of us intense and weird female pervs together in one place.
LOL, I do things like "squirty! squirty! squirty!" to make myself come too! Never thought I'd be admiting it in a thread read by hundreds though. :/ My theory about that sort of very silly but hot verbal stuff is that I have a sort of child mentality--I think my sexuality is fixated there as well, and that is the sort of thing that gets you really hot as a kid. Usually these things come out in my brain at the very peak of a humiliation fantasy--they just make the humiliation hotter.
This isn't as good as "squirty! squirty!" but it's along the same lines: I imagine I'm on a beach and someone's forced me to pull out my labia from the sides of my bikini bottoms and leave them exposed. Then I have to walk down the beach. And of course I walk by a gang of teenage boys and they start to follow me ogling and taunting me, taking photos. A highlight (usually an orgasm, too) will come when one of the boys sits down in front of me, grabs each labia in his hands and then wiggles or pulls them while he starts singing, "Do your labs hang low, do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow..." with all the other boys laughing and jeering at me.
rosco rathbone
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I tried to rub my nub just now but it is too humid in here. Somehow the electromagnetic field connecting my cock to my balls is all out of whack. Katty-whompus. No go. So I went back to my PK Dick biography.
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